Woe is a Prosecutor
by Mad Clown Disease
Summary: Co-fic with Dustin the Wind. What happens at the prosecutor's office when the Chief Prosecutor dies and needs a replacement?


**Woe is a Prosecutor**  
By: Storm Parakaitz and Dustin the Wind

Note: Uhh this doesn't have spoilers?  
Disclaimer: I do not own Ace Attorney, or any related characters and likewise used in this piece of writing.  
Permission Issues: If you wish to post this on your own site, you must leave my author name and all notes on this document, not require financial exchanges of any kind, contact me first, and link either my author name (Storm Parakaitz) to my website, Mystic Wish, or link to it in your site's links section. I request that you do not post any email address of mine if you wish to archive my work.

* * *

"Everyone," the intercom blared, "the Chief Prosecutor has suddenly died of AIDS and was definitely not murdered. We'll be picking a new one to take his place soon. That is all. Did I mention the Chief Prosecutor wasn't murdered?"

Detective Gumshoe nodded."That's a darn shame...wait, who said that? Isn't the Chief Prosecutor the only one who can announce things over the inter-" he was suddenly interrupted by the crack of a whip. Across his face. "-cOOOOW!"

"Silence, you foolish dog!" Franziska commanded. "Such a foolish position. Chief Prosecutor... poppycock. Who needs it?"

Miles Edgeworth then strolled in, proud, refined, and right on cue to piss Franziska off.

Gumshoe smiled upon seeing his favorite prosecutor; the only one who doesn't physically hurt him. "Hey Mr. Edgeworth, sir! Are you going to run for the Chief Prosecutor position?"

Either not noticing or not caring about the look on Franziska's face, he nodded. "But of course. I know of no one who is better suited for the job," he proclaimed with a bow.

Franziska shuddered, her every muscle rebelling against having Miles Edgeworth as Chief Prosecutor. Godot then entered the room unnoticed to watch the spectacle. "I... I will become the Chief Prosecutor!" Gumshoe and Edgeworth promptly got out of the way – Gumshoe accomplished this by cowering in a corner – while Godot just nonchalantly sipped his coffee. "I must defeat Miles Edgeworth!"

"Ha...!" Godot chuckled, "You think you're ready to be crowned Chief Prosecutor? Sorry, that's not happening, little kitten."

Franziska opened her mouth to reply, but apoplectic rage shut down her voice box for the time being.

"Say, Mr. Godot," Gumshoe asked from his hiding place, "are you running for Chief Prosecutor too?"

"Of course," came the reply from the coffee-loving prosecutor.

Now, the fury that was choking her previously had forced it's way down her throat, resulting in that quiet, creepy kind of hatred that says _you are that target of a von Karma_. "Hmph. Why would a foolishly foolish fool such as yourself so foolishly aspire to such a foolishly unreachable goal for one as utterly foolish as yourself?"

Godot sipped his coffee. "For the lulz."

If you listen hard enough, you could hear her composure snap. What happened next was too chaotic to describe, but Franziska learned that her whip is capable of cutting a coffee mug in half.

_Later that day..._

"Thanks, pal!" Gumshoe said, receiving a steak lunch from Lunchland. He was about to dig in when Mike Meekins approached him.

The officer held his megaphone up to his face and screamed into it, "DETECTIVE GUMSHOE, DID YOU HEAR ABOUT THE NEW PROSECUTOR COMING TO THE OFFICE TODAY?!"

"Ow! Owww! Not so loud, Meekins!" he yelled, fingers stuffed into his ears. "Gah, you're gonna blow out my eardrums, pal!" From further in the parking lot, a spit take was heard, followed by an echoing "Do _what?!" _The voice sounded strangely Godot-esque. "There's a new prosecutor, pal?"

Meekins nodded. "Wonder how he'll impact the race for Chief Prosecutor?"

Gumshoe shook his head. "Mr. Edgeworth's got it in the bag, pal."

Angel Starr sighed. "You are _so_ gay for that guy..."

"W-W-W-What?!"

From across the parking lot, Godot shrugged. "I guess I'll head out for a smoke break," he muttered. As he turned to leave, he heard Gumshoe shouting something from across the parking lot

"Hey, Mr. Godot! What are you doing in the visitor's block?"

Godot took his palm to the front of his mask.

"Also, you don't smoke!"

The coffee addict groaned and walked away, choosing not to respond to the scatterbrained oaf of a detective. As he made his way out the front, he passed by two officers guarding the front entrance. He took a seat on a bench, removed a coffee mug from the Court Record, and began to lounge.

He wasn't resting for more than five minutes when he heard a motorcycle approach the prosecutor's office. A young, blond-haired man in sunglasses and _lots_ of leather got off the bike and sauntered over to him. "Guten tag!" he greeted.

Godot rolled his eyes. "Great. More Germans," he thought.

The kid arrived at Godot's bench. "Klavier Gavin. I'm a prosecutor," he introduced. "und you are...?"

"Godot," he replied, taking another sip of coffee. "That's a nice bike. Looks custom."

Klavier smiled. "Ah, ja! I had her custom made in Germany!"

"Of course."

Meanwhile, back inside the main office, Franziska's nose picked up a distinctive blend of smells: motor oil, sausages, beer, and Volkswagen. "Another German," she seethed. Grabbing her whip, she stormed toward the source of the scent, in case she needed to defend her territory. As she passed by Meekins and the guards by the main entrance, she took a quick pause to warm up her whip by hitting all three of them in the face until they cried like children. Then she made her exit to confront this German.

* * *

"Ah," Edgeworth muttered. Setting down his tea and picking up his pen, he was about to sign Gumshoe's latest pay cut. It would seem that Gumshoe now actually owed the police department money as opposed to receiving a paycheck this month. Just as he put pen to paper, he was suddenly assaulted by an orchestra of motorcycle engine accompanied by whip against concrete in f-minor.

Sighing, Edgeworth took another sip of tea. The orchestra was joined by a falsetto of German curses. It would seem that this very lucky biker has been managing to avoid Franziska's wrath, but he may need to step in shortly before she decides to just tackle him off the bike. Setting down his teacup, he decided to go outside and teach these children a lesson.

Back outside, Franziska was wildly cracking her whip at Klavier, who was dodging with a series of expertly performed motorcycle tricks, all while Godot sat at his bench, coffee in hand, laughing his ass off. It wasn't long until Edgeworth came out angry as a von Karma with a penalty. Godot shot him a quick glance, but kept laughing as if he was watching a compiled tape of every injury Phoenix Wright had ever sustained in his career. Klavier was having too much fun circling around the enraged whip-wielding woman to notice the new presence. Of course, Franziska was in no state to notice the arrival of her "little brother."

He tapped his shoulder, watching his fellow co-worker's antics, unamused. When no one noticed him, he walked over to Godot and tapped the side of his mask, firing a laser in their general direction.

All movement ceased.

"Huh. I didn't know it could do that..." muttered Godot.

"Franziska!" Edgeworth shouted, "You know better than that!" The 'perfect' von Karma dropped her whip in shame. Godot chuckled at this.

"Godot!" Edgeworth turned to the coffee maniac. "What the hell are you doing just watching them?!" Godot stopped laughing and started sipping his coffee, trying to ignore the High Prosecutor.

Then Edgeworth pointed his objection finger at Klavier. "Motorcycle punk! Get away from the prosecutor's office before I inform the police!"

Klavier brushed his bangs away from his face. "But Herr Prosekutor," he said as he rode up to him, "I'm the new kid. Today is my first day here."

With that, Edgeworth's face paled considerably.

"I believe we are off to a bad start," he apologized. "I am Klavier Gavin. Nice to meet you!" he said, extending his hand.

Reluctantly, Edgeworth shook it. "Miles Edgeworth," he introduced.

The two of them looked over at Franziska, who was pale in the face, scowling.

Godot laughed, "Lmao."


End file.
